Borgert St Quotes

After an hour, "Gasoline Love" was sounding more like "Turpentine Disinterest. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I am joining the government not from the academic position but from St. Petersburg city council. ~ Anatoly Chubais

Let us love God my brothers, let us love God. But let it be with the strength of our arms and the sweat of our brow. ~ St. Vincent

This was the first of the St. Augustines. Previous memos had borne messages from Zwingli, Lévi-Strauss, Rilke, Chekhov, Tillich, William Blake, Charles Olson and a Kiowa chief named Satanta. Naturally the person responsible for these messages became known throughout the company as the Mad Memo-Writer. I never referred to him that way because it was much too obvious a name. I called him Trotsky. There was no special reason for choosing Trotsky; it just seemed to fit. I wondered if he was someone I knew. Everybody seemed to think he was probably a small grotesque man who had suffered many disappointments in life, who despised the vast impersonal structure of the network and who was employed in our forwarding department, the traditional repository for all sex offenders, mutants and vegetarians. They said he was most likely a foreigner who lived in a rooming house in Red Hook; he spent his nights reading an eight-volume treatise on abnormal psychology, in small type, and he told his grocer he had been a Talmudic scholar in the old country. This was the consensus and maybe it had a certain logic. But I found more satisfaction in believing that Trotsky was one of our top executives. He made eighty thousand dollars a year and stole paper clips from the office. ~ Don DeLillo

I feel it in here," she said, placing her hand against her chest and then against her stomach, "and here. It's like there's not enough air or room inside me. That I may ... burst out of my skin or drown in it, and that wouldn't be a bad thing. I don't know why I feel this way, but I always have ... and will." She tipped her chin up and her entire face was a rosy color. "It's you. I ... I love you. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

She had brushed her teeth before vomiting as well, never able to utterly crush the optimistic streak in her nature. ~ Edward St. Aubyn

The invitation to Miss Myra St. Claire's bobbing party spent the morning in his coat pocket, where it had an intense physical affair with a dusty piece of peanut brittle. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

My middle name is Marshall. A lot of people think it's a stage name, but it's not. ~ Trevor St. John

No two journeys are alike. Nobody can pretend to know the journey another person takes to achieve his dreams. ~ Georges St-Pierre

[on going to Sunday school:] It looks like rain, and I hope it will rain cats and dogs and hammers and pitchforks and silver sugar spoons and hay ricks and paper-covered novels and picture frames and rag carpets and toothpicks and skating rinks and birds of paradise and roof gardens and burdocks and French grammars before Sunday school time. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

The round, unformed script on the fly-leaf said, Francis Crawford of Lymond. She stared at it; then put it down and picked up another. The writing in this one was older; the neat level hand she had seen once before, in Stamboul. This time it said only, The Master of Culter.

That dated it after the death of his father, when until the birth of Richard's son Kevin, the heir's rank and title were Lymond's. And all the books were his, too. She scanned them: some works in English; others in Latin and Greek, French, Italian and Spanish.… Prose and verse. The classics, pressed together with folios on the sciences, theology, history; bawdy epistles and dramas; books on war and philosophy; the great legends. Sheets and volumes and manuscripts of unprinted music. Erasmus and St Augustine, Cicero, Terence and Ptolemy, Froissart and Barbour and Dunbar; Machiavelli and Rabelais, Bude and Bellenden, Aristotle and Copernicus, Duns Scotus and Seneca.

Gathered over the years; added to on infrequent visits; the evidence of one man's eclectic taste. And if one studied it, the private labyrinth, book upon book, from which the child Francis Crawford had emerged, contained, formidable, decorative as his deliberate writing, as the Master of Culter. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Malice swallows the greatest part of its own venom. ~ St. Jerome

If you love me, feed my sheep. ~ Anonymous

Men use to reason with themselves: It will not always be health, let us lay up for sickness; it will not always be youth, for age; and why not, saith St. Paul, it will not alway be this life, nor alway present life, lay up for yourselves against the life to come. ~ Lancelot Andrewes

I don't bed with children.'

'Rumour says,' said Catherine d'Albon, 'that you did. Or are the Knights of St John all mistaken?'

'You know too much,' said Francis Crawford slowly. 'Shall I amend it? I don't bed with young girls who are virgins, unless they ask me, and unless I am married to them. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

I dreamed of being very attracted to my future husband, and I'm extremely attracted to him. I dreamed of having lots of fun together and being able to be goofy and be accepted, that's all there. ~ Rebecca St. James

It's not love's going hurts my days
But that it went in little ways. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

I don't know WHEN I'll be big enough to play! ~ Martin St. Louis

Found, except for X. I and U are used for J and V. There was no rune for Q (use CW); nor for Z (the dwarf-rune may be used if required). It will be found, however, that some single runes stand for two modern letters: th, ng, ee; other runes of the same kind ( ea and st) were also sometimes used. The secret door was marked D . From the side a hand pointed to this, and under it was written: The last two runes are the initials of Thror and Thrain. The moon-runes read ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

But the one counsel he did give me is something that I will not easily forget: There are many beautiful mystical books written by the Christians. You should read St. Augustine's Confessions, and The Imitation of Christ ~ Thomas Merton

Look, look, we tell each other. It's Tom!

He's Mr. Bellamy to his history students. But he's Tom to us. Tom! It's so good to see him. So wonderful to see him. Tom is one of us. Tom went through it all with us. Tom made it through. He was there in the hospital with so many of us, the archangel of St. Vincent's, our healthier version, prodding the doctors and calling over the nurses and holding our hands and holding the hands of our partners, our parents, our little sisters - anyone who had a hand to be held. He had to watch so many of us die, had to say goodbye so many times. Outside of our rooms he would get angry, upset, despairing. But when he was with us, it was like he was powered solely by an engine of grace. Even the people who loved us would hesitate at first to touch us - more from the shock of our diminishment, from the strangeness of how we were both gone and present, not who we were but still who we were. Tom became used to this. First because of Dennis, the way he stayed with Dennis until the very end. He could have left after that, after Dennis was gone. We wouldn't have blamed him. But he stayed. When his friends got sick, he was there. And for those of us he'd never know before - he was always a smile in the room, always a touch on the shoulder, a light flirtation that we needed. The y should have made him a nurse. They should have made him mayor. He lost years of his life to us, although that's not the story he'd tell. He would say he gained. And he ~ David Levithan

There is no excuse for cruelty, but--at an orphanage--perhaps we are obliged to withhold love; if you fail to withhold love at an orphanage, you will create an orphanage that no orphan will willingly leave. You will create a Homer Wells--a true orphan, because his only home will always be at St. Cloud's. ~ John Irving

I can Be what I WILL to Be. Find A Way~ Make it Happen! ~ Darwun St. James

Make Time daily to focus on what Happiness means to you, we can't Achieve, what we can't Conceive! ~ Darwun St. James

It is impossible for me to be an Anarchist, for I do not believe in the essential goodness of man. The world, the physical world, that was once all in all to me, has at moments such as these no road through a wood, no stretch of shore, that can bring me comfort. The beauty of these things can no longer at such moments make up to me at all for the ugliness of man, his cruelty, his greed, his lying face. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Yes, I live a crazy, exciting, whatever life, but I do think it's quite relatable because it has to be - I'm just a girl from St Louis, Missouri that has lived life like anyone else. There are things that are crazy and over the top, but the basic thread is my family, my career, trying to live and pursuing my dreams. ~ Kimora Lee Simmons

Lord, take me from myself and give me to yourself. ~ St. Catherine Of Siena

Among the classic tastes: bread sauce, Nuits St Georges Les Perdrix 1962, Worcestershire sauce, Toblerone and Bovril. ~ Kenneth Tynan

We're like two peas in a pod""Pity the pod ~ James St. James

If she were in a fresco in St. Mary's Basilica, she'd be an angel with a halo, cradling a dove in one hand and wielding a sword in the other. ~ Nicole Helget

This was Roberta's favorite time. The quiet, the chill of the leftover night air, the cold seeping into her legs and her feet, waking her up. The trees around the edges of the pitch were black against the sky, and from one of them three ravens took flight, rising stark and lonely against the clouds. ~ Simone St. James